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Correct Like Whaaat Lyrics
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Artists: P
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Problem
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Correct Like Whaaat
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Lyrics:
[Verse 1: Problem] Who dat, talking bout, who dat Run up on me, you get your ass beat blue black Go on get nerve, I'm off the curb Push mountains of herb, you niggas already heard The bro Berg, keep a pistol gripped pump on his lap at all time Whatever however, cause young niggas stay trying See them and be like huh, nigga, what? Huh, give a fuck like whaat Blow my weed, smash the dash Hop up in my lane, shit be looking way different Through these thousand dollars frames Millionaire mind, fuck the thousand dollars brain Thousand dollar lame only get loud around his gang ass nigga, ass nigga Compton for real, you ain't gotta ask nigga Floating through the city like I'm on a raft nigga Mike Vick with the shit, I don't need a pass nigga Like what that shit do, yeah [Hook: Problem] I'm just doing my thang, fingers in the sky Banging my gang like uh Go on fall back, cause you don't want no problems like that Cause we gonna be like huh, nigga what, Huh, give a fuck, nigga whaat Huh, nigga what, Huh, give a fuck, nigga whaat [Verse 2: Problem] Your money funny you a clown Your bitch hit me up then I'm probably going down It depends on how much of that shit I just had Pill cool but I prefer my MDMA by the bag Heavy hitter right here, all you other nigga's jabs Big talking bout beef till you serve they ass a slab Do the math hoes clash, cause I got them yelling Woo, like Flair When I'm done they always ask How you do dat there? Word to Master P and Young Bleed I pull your bitch she trying kick it fast as Chun Li Cause I'm a pimp see, word to Bun B Underground king, no checker, shout out to the bitch pressing Get a weight lift, reppin' Cal like Ripken I'm on fire right now P burnin', no Syphilis, Strap it up, you murder the pussy Real beef you don't talk, you just murder a pussy See me? [Hook] I'm just doing my thang, fingers in the sky Banging my game like uh Go on fall back, cause you don't want no problems like that Cause we gonna be like huh, nigga what, Huh, give a fuck, nigga whaat A nigga be like huh, nigga what, Huh, give a fuck, nigga whaat A nigga be like, [Verse 3: Bad Lucc] Who dat I bet your lady knew that She said he got a ticket on the molly, mommy do that Talking with my round diamond lane, I thought you knew that Pound half-Raider, hunned sixes is where we grew that See me on the 10 with my squad we so trill Or uptown with them foolies niggas, trapping by the mill I do it for my bros of the Locke Them hoes on stop I used to wear Pirellis back when Nelly was on top Now it's 442 my pack a bang rewinding, My bitch is red as a Honda throw back on them Yokohamas I'ma slam the scraper, You touch the paper it's go, me I'm just granted for show These hoes thanking it's snow I get it going my nig, I blow the horn and she ready Disrespectful? Nigga please, I’m the one with the fetti I'm going out with a bang, it's Lane on the chain I just show ‘em with diamonds nigga, cause Lane is the gang!
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